


Querencia

by he_wants_to_write



Series: Destiel One Shot Collection [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bisexual Dean Winchester, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Castiel Wants Dean Winchester to be Happy, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Castiel and Dean Winchester in Love, Castiel in the Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Castiel is Loved (Supernatural), Dean Winchester In Love, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Dean Winchester is Loved, Dean Winchester is Not Heterosexual, Decade of Destiel | 10 Year Anniversary of Lazarus Rising, Destiel - Freeform, Destiel Week (Supernatural), Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Happy Castiel/Dean Winchester, Happy Dean Winchester, Human Castiel (Supernatural), Inspired by Poetry, Long-Term Relationship(s), Lovesick Dean Winchester, M/M, Poetic, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, Supernatural100 | Supernatural Drabble Community
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:40:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22011223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/he_wants_to_write/pseuds/he_wants_to_write
Summary: querencia; (n.) a place from which one's strength is drawn, where one feels at home; the place where you are your most authentic self
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Destiel One Shot Collection [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1803595
Kudos: 13





	Querencia

Under Dean's eyes, in the twilight behind his eyelids, lives a familiar, warm, welcoming image. Dean has never enjoyed reading, but he sees the invisible words that live between Castiel's wrinkles and transforms them, in his mind, into meanings that only he - or they - understand.

Decades of emptiness and hopelessness unaccustomed Dean to feeling whole. They took from his soul the will to live, to read, to see and to feel. But, from nothing less than heavenly, he came. An angel watching over you, Mary used to say.

On nights that seem to last longer than normal, in which the moon learns to listen to the conversations inside Dean's head, he has wondered if Castiel had seen him grow up all this time, just as he watched him sleep. He wondered if Castiel saw him question the universe and the world as if it were a horror story, a debate that brought Dean a meaning that was excluded from John's ideas, outside the box where his father had placed him. Expectations for Dean didn't let him grow in that sense, but the hunter did it anyway. Perhaps it was Castiel who had planted this idea in his mind without him realizing it, just as Castiel planted in his mind a different idea of feeling, affection, admiration, and love.

Yes, love. From a man rough around the edges who is not afraid of anything but is afraid when he thinks of the nothing he used to be and feel.

Dean wondered if Castiel took other forms before Jimmy; how they were, how they looked. But it didn't matter so much, being the content, the grand and powerful angel, the same that once pulled Dean from hell. Dean wondered if Castiel helped create the universe; if any creature around the face of the Earth has ever gone through the wonders of creation at the hands of Castiel, an ancient angel who, in a decade, changed the course of his existence for a human. Dean watched Castiel's mannerisms, humanized gestures, and choice of words that went from being formal, harsh, insensible, to becoming simple and colloquial, just like Dean. The hunter wondered if the angel, because of him, had stooped.

Castiel thought otherwise. He had not stooped; but became human, became what he swore to protect and love, with all his infinite power until it became finite.

Under Dean's eyes, dark like an endless night, he hears Castiel's voice, shaking with human sleep, human warmth. Castiel is human, lying on a gray sheet, body stretched out on the mattress in the most human way.

Good morning, he says, even though he knows the sun has not yet appeared on the blurry horizon. Castiel doesn't answer him but embraces him, squeezing his figure and feeling the hunter's skin against his. Dean read words in his small smile that recited poetry.

Castiel mesmerizes himself in the glow of Dean's soul and decides to stay right there, immersed in a sea of eternity, better than the sea in which its creation he watched. In the stillness of the room and the bunker, Castiel hears the sounds of Dean's breathing, a rhythmless song that fills his ears and makes him feel humanly in love with the minutes and with Dean.

Dean feels blessed to be there, feeling, touching an angel. A creature who gave up the angelic essence of perfection to lie there, stretched like a human, humanly loving, in a way that no expectation of heaven would ever reach.


End file.
